


Familiar Taste of Poison

by ShotsbyShae



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Reader-Insert, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-14 20:03:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShotsbyShae/pseuds/ShotsbyShae
Summary: Thanos is gone and everyone is alive, including Bucky Barnes. The world is perfect - isn't it?





	Familiar Taste of Poison

**Author's Note:**

> It’s October! In honor of my birth month and all things Halloween related here’s a little Monster of the Week drabble.

**I don’t wanna be saved.**

The morning sunlight streaming through your window is much too bright for your liking as you tug the blanket over your head. You contemplate the idea of staying in bed all day, not wanting to face anyone or anything. It’s much easier to be alone – after everything that’s happened.

An arm snakes it’s way around your waist, muscles flexing as it pulls you against the warm body beside you and you instinctively tense up in the sudden awareness that you are not alone in your bed. The man props up on one elbow as he glances at you with a sleepy smile, “Hey.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as you stare up into those familiar blue eyes. _What in the hell? How? _

There’s a flicker of concern across his features as he watches you, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

You don’t realize your hand is trembling until you reach for cheek, running your thumb along the stubble there. The words tumbling out in confusion, “No – I – it’s fine. You’re fine.” _It’s a dream,_ you think to yourself as he moves in, brushing his lips against yours as his hand moves to your neck. You press against him as you deepen the kiss, fingers tangling in his hair in a familiar fashion.

_This can’t be real can it? _Your mind wanders, knowing he’s gone. You were there when it happened.

One thing you can’t get past is he feels real – tastes real – he rolls on top of you, bracing himself with his metal arm as he peppers kisses along your jaw. You feel him against your thigh and you greedily grab for the waistband of his pajama pants. His lips smirk against your neck at your eagerness, but this isn’t like the passionate sex the two of you had in Wakanda, this is desire – a hunger. Everyone has a primal side and yours kicks in as he tosses your pajama shorts aside. You bury your face against his neck, you need to breathe him in, feel his skin prickle against yours as he slips inside you easily, knowing you were wet the moment his mouth met yours because you always melt for him. Bucky Barnes has constantly been your weakness. The moan he lets slip out against your ear sends a chill down your spine and brings you to the edge. You can hear his teeth grinding together as his thrusts become more rhythmic and you know neither of you are going to last much longer because this isn’t a dream.

When you both come it’s quick and raw and fucking real.

“That’s better than coffee,” Bucky smirks after he pulls his pajama pants back on.

You smile back at him, still trying to decipher things. _Wakanda had happened, right?_ He climbs back onto the bed pressing a soft kiss against your lips as he does.

A quick knock from the door interrupts the two of you and a young man’s voice fills the room as it opens, his hand covering his eyes as he steps into the room, “Please be dressed. Mr. Stark sent me to –”

Peter doesn’t have time to finish the sentence before you’re across the room with your arms around his neck, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you whisper, “Oh my God.”

The boy stands there in shock, one hand on your back comfortingly as he stares at the man who is slowly climbing out of your bed, “Oh – okay – this is new. Is she okay?” His question is directed at Barnes, who gives a shrug of his shoulders.

You realize the scene your causing and you step back quickly, “Sorry, I – I had a bad dream.” Peter watches you curiously and you continue, “You were gone – Thanos had won.”

“Thanos is gone,” Bucky comments as he stands up from the bed.

A vision overtakes you, one of Thanos wearing the gauntlet and snapping his fingers, but you blink your eyes with a shake of your head, bringing your room back into focus, “You’re right – he’s gone.”

Later you make your way down the hall toward the kitchen, in desperate need for coffee. The uncertainty of the mornings events creating chaos in your brain. You round the corner, bumping into Steve and his arm juts out to grab you by the shoulder.

Another vision flashes through your mind of you kneeling on the ground, your hands covered in ashes, tears warm on your cheeks as they fall silently. There’s a hand on your shoulder and you glance up to see Steve, his long hair slicked back with sweat and blood matted in his beard. His eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, and he looks defeated – broken – beaten and battle-worn. He kneels down beside you on the ground and you lean into him, glancing back to the dark pile of ashes on the ground before you.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s voice brings you back to reality, or at least you think it’s reality, and you glance up wide-eyed at the man standing in front of you.

“Yea – I’m just – tired. I need coffee,” you smile reassuringly.

The caffeine only agitates your anxiety and you change into workout clothes and head for the gym. You’re burning off energy as you work the bag in front of you, _jab – jab – cross – jab, _on a continuous loop for a while when you see Sam enter the gym with Bucky. Your heart drops for a moment as you stop and watch their playful banter. The dread creeping back into your mind, _something isn’t right._

“You know this isn’t real,” Natasha’s voice states matter-of-factly into your ear and you jump at her sudden appearance.

“What?” You breathe heavily, her words threatening the peacefulness of this reality.

“You need to get a grip,” she says angrily grabbing your arm. “You’re living in here, but you’re dying out there.”

The scene changes again to a warehouse and an IV-bag full of dark red liquid – blood maybe – the line runs down in front of you and lays flatly against your shirt. You feel insanely weak, your eyes won’t stay open. Suddenly you’re standing in the conference room as pictures flash on the screen in front of you: Fury, Bucky, Sam, Peter. Natasha’s there, with Steve and Bruce, all of them look devastated. Romanoff’s words fill your mind, “Thanos did exactly what he said he was going to do. He wiped out fifty percent of all living creatures.”

“Hey,” Nat’s expression is different as she touches your shoulder gingerly, bringing you back to the safety of gym. “Everything okay?”

“No,” you shake your head as you begin tugging off the gloves. “I – I need some air.”

Rushing from the gym, you hear Barnes’ voice as he chases after you, “Wait – hey – what’s wrong?”

You turn on your heel as he jogs towards you, “I – I don’t know what’s real anymore Buck.”

He takes your hands carefully in his, “Sshhh, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“But you’re not,” you shake your head as the tears begin to fall. “I saw you die. You’re all gone. You, Peter, Sam – none of this is real.”

A soft smile graces his features as he cups your face in his hand, “But it can be – we can be real.” Peter and Sam approach quietly from nowhere as Bucky continues to speak. “You can live a full life with me here – just like this. We can finally be happy.”

The look on his face breaks your heart, _we can finally be happy. _You would give him anything he asks for – he deserves it.

“Aren’t you tired of losing?” Sam questions sincerely. “You deserve a chance at happiness. You’ve done enough.”

“Please,” Peter joins in, and you glance over at him, seeing the tears forming in his eyes. “Please stay – I don’t wanna go.”

Bucky turns your face to him, bright blue eyes staring down at you as his brows knit together, “Stay with me.”

This is wrong and you know you should be strong – fight it. Find your way out of this perfect fantasy land and go home because your body is dying – you know deep down it is. That’s what you _should _do, but the truth is, you’re not strong anymore and you’re tired of pretending to be. You fake it for Nat, and you fake it for Steve, and you fake it for Tony, and you’re done faking it. Thanos had broke you.

It may be selfish, but you were choosing happiness.

“For you,” you nod in agreement placing your hands on either side of Bucky’s face, pressing your lips against his. Your words a whisper between the two of you, “I’ll stay – for you.”

The smell of blood and grease fill your nose and you can hear someone speaking, a deep voice that sounds so far away. Your arms are stretched above your head and your bare feet are barely touching the concrete floor. Everything is so cold – damp – you can’t feel your fingertips or toes.

“You two take care of it. I got her,” a strange voice states, and you want to look at what’s happening, but your eyelids are too heavy. There’s a stinging sensation as something is pulled from your neck. “Come on sweetheart – wake up.”

You feel movement as the man works on the ropes which are tied around your wrists, keeping you suspended from the ceiling. Suddenly, you can taste the salt from the tears that have rolled down your cheeks and moistened your chapped lips. It had all been a dream – none of it was real – they were still gone. He was still gone.

“Sam, is she going to be okay?” This voice is concerned and familiar – Rogers.

“Yea,” another strange man’s voice replies. “She’s alive, we got here in time.”

“And that’s a djinn?” Rogers tone sounds disbelieving.

“Yea.”

“Steve,” your voice cracks as you finally begin to open your eyes. It takes a moment for your eyes to finally focus on the stranger in front of you.

“No,” the man with the gravelly tone glances down at you with piercing green eyes. “I’m Dean.” His expression changes upon seeing the look of angst on your face as the realization continues to sink in and the look, the look he has isn’t pity – it’s understanding.

“I wanted to stay,” the words are barely audible as fresh tears form. You bring your fists down against his chest weakly as he frees you from the ropes. His arms catch you as you start to collapse, your eyes pleading with him as small sobs vibrate from your chest through to his, “Why didn’t you let me stay?”


End file.
